Star Wars: Fallacy
by JosieVang2
Summary: Four unlikely people across the galaxy get strange boxes that bring them together for an exciting adventure. What does a mercenary, two bounty hunters, a pilot and a dark Jedi have in common, if anything? What could possibly united them? Read this to find out! A/N: Set during the New Republic, about seven years before the Yuuzhan Vong war.
1. Chapter 1

Star Wars: The Fallacy

Two young men sparred out in the grassy plains of Corellia. The sky was a golden brilliance above them. This, coupled with the sparks from each time their vibro-swords clashed, made for an impressive sight.

"Damn!" The younger one swore, having received a swift blow to the wrist by the older, more experienced one. Blood dripped down from Dravik's hand into the grass. He put his other up, signaling the end of the session. "Do you have to be so precise?" He angrily muttered as he inspected the damage.

"Of course." Renn Solus replied to his little brother lightly. Mockingly. Dravik was used to it, but it still didn't improve his mood much, something Renn took advantage of too often. "You can't expect me to go easy on you." Renn continued smugly "Do you think those people scurrying for their lives will go easy if you manage to corner them? Bounty Hunting's a deadly business."

Dravik ignored the painful jibe at his career choice, answering instead with a quick and unexpected slash of his blade. Renn took five quick steps back to avoid it, but still was caught across the chest. The man seethed at the trickery while at the same time admiring Dravik's daring.

A sudden high pitched whistling noise interrupted further combat. The two brothers cautiously approached two trees that seemed to be where whatever was causing the sound was located. When they reached it they saw that the source was a plain, dark metal box that could have fit in one hand. Dravik crouched down and reached to touch it.

Renn slapped his younger brother's hand away "Are you stupid? For all we know it's an explosive, or a spy droid of some kind." Dravik, however, still wasn't put off by that. "Won't know till we get a look at it, now will we?" He reached out again and gripped the little box tightly. It glowed a brilliant green in reaction to his touch. He watched in wonder as a hologram emerged.

* * *

Twenty two year old Imperial Remnant tie-fighter pilot Tamora Skye was pleased when the results of her final test came to her datapad in her Coruscant apartment, albeit at five in the morning. (Though she was honestly used to that, being an early riser.)

According to the message she'd been two milliseconds shy of breaking the flight record! As she began cooking a celebratorily unhealthy breakfast, a part of Tamora told herself that it wasn't enough. She had to BREAK the record. She had to be perfect. Elite. The best. She was contemplating if she could retake the test, but dismissed that crazy idea immediately. I'm fine, she thought firmly.

She sat down at the table and commed her parents, who were both constantly eager for news of her progress through the flight academy. The signal connected and she smiled at the holographic figures that rose up in front of her. "I passed." Tamora said warmly by way of greeting. She listened to their eclaimations of approval and felt a surge of reassurance. She didn't tell them about almost breaking the academy record. The call ended.

Tamora sat there at the dining table for a while, stunned by her achievement. It really happened. This is it, four years of work payed off. Finally...She shook herself out of her thoughts. Tamora stood up, grabbed her bag, held her head high and walked out the apartment door. With a huge grin, she strolled down the peaceful streets of level thirteen-fifteen of Coruscant with a spring in her step.

Tamora entered her favorite restaurant. Letting out a sigh of delight, she seated herself in a booth in the corner. She idly sipped some water as she pondered what to order. A waiter approached a minute later. Tamora was about to open her mouth to ask what the special was when the man gave a furtive glance around withdrew a small, plain metallic box from his pocket and placed it in front of her.

Tamora was confused, at the situation and her inability to identify the object. What in the spice mines of Kessel is going on? "What am I supposed to do with this thing, and what is it?" She demanded of the waiter.

"Go out back, hold it in your hands and say 'Clearance six' Everything will be explained." The man replied swiftly. An expression flashed across his face (Was it fear?) and he spun around and hurried away, leaving Tamora with a hundred questions burning inside. Half of her wanted to get up and grab the man and force him to answer her, while the other half wanted to...

There's only one way to find out anything, Tamora rationalized. It was that thought that drove her to get up and leave through the back entrance as non-chalantly as possible, the box in hand.

Out in the darkness she spoke the words as instructed. For a heartbeat she felt foolish. Then the cube began glowing emerald green, and soon the holo-image of a humanoid swathed in a heavy, dark cloak formed atop it. A thick hood cast obscuring shadows, making the facial features indistinguishable for Tamora.

"I am Lord Zitva." Tamora was oddly struck by the softness of the voice. When he spoke again, her heart skipped a beat: Somehow she knew her life would never be the same. "and I have need of your exceptional skills."

* * *

Raxern drove his crimson lightsaber into the heart of the closest mercenary and shoved out with his free hand in a massive Force push that sent the other two slamming into the wall with bone shattering force. Too easy. None Force-users were pitiful compared to him. It almost made him sick at times. They were slower, weaker, less cunning. And he was fitter, for a twenty five year old man. All the enemies taken care of, he deactivated his lightsaber and continued on.

He smiled as he came upon the daise. He used the Force to pull the object, a plain gray box, into his hand. Raxern examined it carefully. It was completely unmarked, but for one small red symbol. Raxern, being well versed in history, recognized it immediately.

It was the mark of the Raakata. The ancient beings who built superweapons such as the Death Star, the Star Forge and the Sun Crusher.

Intriguing. He ran his thumb over the symbol, and a moment later was met by a hologram of a female Human that looked close to his age. She wore a simple blue dress to match her eyes. Her light brown hair hung around her face in long curls.

"I'm Seelah, and I need your help." The woman spoke briskly "If you managed to get this, Torian, then follow the coordinates you're about to receive."

The woman's image was replaced by a series of numbers that Raxern recognized as hyper-space coordinates.

Whatever this woman was, she seemed to know him, must have known him! How else could she know his true name? He'd erased all records of his existance before leaving the Jedi Academy. But for all he searched his memory, he couldn't rememeber this woman.

He had nothing to lose by accepting, Raxern mused. Perhaps credits to gain...

Raxern closed down the hologram, thinking about how much he was now looking forward to proving to this woman that she knew NOTHING about him.

* * *

"Incoming troops!"

"Damn!"

"Orders ma'am?"

Chaos was afoot in the mercenary base in the middle of Dathomirs' jungles.

"Silence! All of you, if you want to live to see your next paycheck!" Petra screeched over the intercomm system, punctuating that announcement with blasting a soldier in the head who had been trying to get her to move into the hangar bay.

Quiet overtook the base. The soldiers slowly filtered into the planning room, giving their leader their full attention.

"Let's review the information and see which one of you will be getting out alive." Petra said coolly. Several people nodded enthusiastically as the woman pulled up a birds eye view of the base and its' surrounding areas.

Four groups of ten foot soldiers were closing in on the base from all directions.

"Alright." The base leader said delicately to her troops "Here's what we're going to do. I want two snipers for each of their groups, spread yourselves apart for overlapping arcs of fire, and I want another one of you out there with a rocket launcher to accompany them." She gave them all a fierce smile. "Let's make this short and sweet."

The battle was indeed short and Petra was pleased to know an hour later that her men had suffered no casualties or life threatening injuries. She was alone at the desk in her private quarters, tapping out a message on her datapad when the lights went out. She jumped up at the sound of breathing right behind her and swung out with a fist, but didn't feel any impact. The lights flickered on again.

The room was empty. Petra briefly wondered if she was going mad, or suffering from post traumatic stress (Though that option seemed unlikely, as she'd never experienced it before, and after far worse situations) when her gaze was drawn to her bed in the corner. There was a small metal box resting on it.

She smiled as she gently picked it up. "You shouldn't have." She whispered before striding out to the hangar. She didn't need to activate it to know what it was: Or who it was from.

Petra avoided all questions and looks as she climbed into her stealth vessel as calmly as possible. Her base self destru cted as she headed for space in her single-man craft. As she was about to make the jump to hyperspace, her onboard comm system blinked. She flipped it on quickly "You came calling."

"And you answered." Petra smiled at the familiar voiced reply.

"I did." She said back "Is this it?"

The voice on the other end sounded amused "Would I have sent the box otherwise? Did you activate it?"

"No." Petra confessed "I do still remember THAT particular conversation...Oh so long ago as it was."

"Excellent."

"I'm curious as to who else you picked for the job. Years of planning, years of choices."

"You'll see." The voice answered. The comm system clicked off and Petra initiated the jump, watching the stars stretch and blur around her.

It took two days to reach the destination. Petra entered the building in the city of Theed on the planet of Naboo with caution. As the door slid open, four people who were deep in conversation looked over at her. Some curiously, others...Not so nicely.

In hindsight, she should have expected that reaction.

* * *

"I'm just saying maybe you set this up-" Dravik cut off conversation with his brother and the Tamora woman at the sound of the door opening. A woman in battered civilian clothes walked in and stopped at the sight of them.

"Are you the mysterious benefactor?" Dravik asked the new arrival calmly. If she was, she didn't look it. He knew not to assume anything, in the shadier side of the galaxy. Still...

"Oh Puh-lease," Tamora said from her spot in the corner of the room, her arms folded. "If this pereson could afford to buy us, she could afford to buy herself a new look, which by the way, doesn't flatter you at all." Tamora knew she was being QUITE hostile, but she felt like she had the right to, considering that she'd been mysteriously given a map and a large sum of credits and told "Get here within two days for unexplainable reasons".

Dravik put up his hand as if to placate the snarky woman and remarkably, she stayed quiet. "We were just discussing the...Unusual circumstances that brought us together." He said diplomatically. "We were each given a box containing information and messages, sent to us by...Each other. Which is of course, impossible because we all seem to know that we did no such thing.." Tamora gave him a glare at that, and Dravik finished quickly with "Which means someone who knows all of us recreated us all digitally and sent the false messages."

"Maybe we should just get introductions out of the way first." Tamora suggested sourly.

"Right you are!" Dravik agreed hastily. "I'm Dravik Solus and this" He pointed to Renn "Is my brother, Renn Solus. The angry female-" Another glare from Tamora. What was it with this woman? "Is Tamora Skye." Dravik looked up the staircase at the man in the black robes and added lamely "And no one has any idea who that is. He won't talk to anyone. I'm not even sure he CAN talk."

"I see." Petra said sweetly after a lengthy silence. "Well, you'll all be happy to know that I was invited here just like the rest of you. With any luck, our 'benefactor' as you put it, will be here shortly. I suggest we try to get more comfortable as we wait. I don't suspect hostilities will help anyone." With that said, she went and sat on the couch next to the two brothers and started fiddling with her blaster pistol.

They sat in more silence for a few minutes, and Dravik leaned over to whisper to Petra "Is that a custom D-23?"

She gave a short nod as she cleaned the barrel. "It sure is. I've owned this since I was a girl."

As Tamora watched the two converse about weapons, of all things, she made a decision. She uncrossed her arms and climbed the stairs, stopping in front of the cloaked man. I'm going to get some answers, she decided. Just play it cool. "Who are you?" She saw the hood raise up a fraction of an inch. That's progress, Tamora thought dryly.

"My name is of no importance." The man replied, being irritatingly vague. He tilted his head slightly at Tamora. "What about you? Do you remember your true name?"

"I'm not in a mood for games." Tamora snapped at the cloaked man. "Can I sit with you?" She added after a pause. There went "Playing it cool". But to her surprise, the man nodded in acceptance and scooted over.

"What's your story? How did you get called here?" She questioned, hoping her voice sounded casual. Hoping the man wouldn't divert her again.

"I was attempting to acquire an important item for someone. The cube meant for me was found in the place of it, to my surprise." Tamora swore she heard a tinge of humour there and for some reason she felt that the man was hardly ever surprised by anything. "So that gained your respect and attention, huh?"

The hood titled again. "You seem to be more perceptive than most. I will have to be sure and remember that."

"Yeah, well...Thanks." The woman replied sarcastically. "What do you do? Assassinations?"

"When the mission calls for it." Okay, there was definitely amusement there. Tamora decided to press on that.

"I'm a pilot." She voiced proudly "I beat the Imperial record. Maybe we should work together. An unstoppable assassin with an unstoppable pilot. Free of charge."

The man did something unexpected. He LAUGHED. "I will take that into consideration, miss Tamora."

Back on the first floor, Renn was listening to his brother and the short haired blond woman (Petra, had she said?) talk about their weapons, comparing them and sharing stories. For some reason, he was annoyed with this. Though he learned that Petra was a mercenary and an "Opportunist" as she had put it, meaning she frequently formed and assumed leadership of various merc bands.

All in all, Renn thought that this wasn't someone he wanted his brother getting together with. And he made no mistake about that! His brother's interest was unmasked and plain to anyone, and not JUST in the weapons. His gaze travelled to Tamora and the cloaked man on the stairs. They seemed to be getting along too, and he swore he heard the man give a soft chuckle at something the woman said to him.

Just as he was about to say something to his brother, the door opened again, and a man in full black mandalorian armor strode in.

All conversation once again stopped.

The hooded man went stock still at the sight of the newcomer.

"You are gathered here today because there is need for you. You have the chance to do something more. You have the chance to be something more. But only the chance."

Tamora gave a derisive snort. "Skip the theatrics and tell us what you want. I've had enough puzzle talk from our cloaked friend here." She jabbed her thumb at the man beside her to punctuate her point.

"Then I'll get right to the point." Came the the smooth reply. "Listen closely to what I'm about to say..."


	2. Chapter 2: The Target

A/N: Okay so! Here's Chapter 2 because I finally found time again to write on Fanfictions and I have NO writers block now! YAY. ^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^^_^ RAWR! Enjoy and review! Also I KNOW Renn and Dravik aren't getting much focus, but GRRRRS Tamora and Raxern are sort of the main focus of the story, like the main characters! BUT. I WANT to give everyone their own thing and development and all, and I will on other missions and stuff. Trust me! Just be patient!

This probably how the guys felt when they made the Avengers! GRRR. I always loved the Ensemble cast idea though!

* * *

Star Wars: Fallacy

Chapter 2: The Target

Raxern strode through the crowd purposefully, taking in and noting everyone with his eyes as well as with the Force.

"Target is moving." Came the voice in his ear, so quiet that he barely heard it over the noise of the party around him. Coruscanti citizens at this event were part of the Freedoms Progress movement. A well intention-ed organization, perhaps, if it weren't headed by one of the biggest exporters of slaves in the galaxy. He reached out with the Force, finding his quarry to be on the floor above him and surrounded by two other Force signatures who no doubt were disguised bodyguards. Raxern was self conscious of the vibroblade up the sleeve of his suit as he ascended the staircase hurriedly. He sent a signal to his allies through the Force that could only be interpreted in one possible way.

_Begin._

The lights of the lobby shut off. People immediately began panicking in the darkness, though a voice urged them all to remain calm. Raxern paid it all no mind as he rushed across the floor, his stealth and movements augmented by the Force. He sensed the three Force signatures moving upward as he approached.

They'd reached the elevator.

He built up the Force within him, concentrating hard on a point just above the turbolift, then he released the Force burst.

The elevator stuttered and stopped, straining to move, then slowly and inexorably descended as Raxern pulled it back to the ground floor.

Still holding onto the elevator, he sent out another burst of the Force that slid the doors open. He heard the whir of a blaster being charged, then ducked as a green bolt passed over where his head had been a second before. The lights flickered on, Raxern charged forward with Force enhanced speed, dodging blaster fire as he came upon his victims. He lashed out viciously with a kick backed by the Force to the face of the nearest opponent. He heard the neck snap and was already spinning around with vibroblade in hand as a fist came at his face as if in slow motion. It impacted with Raxern's sword. The blade ripped the man's arm in half long-wise until it hit the shoulder and exited out of the flesh and bone. The enemy screamed in agony, but was cut short, literally, as Raxern decapitated the man.

All this had taken less than ten seconds. The elevator doors closed and it began moving up again, leaving Raxern alone with his target. "Do you have him?" The female voice said into the dark jedi's ear. "Do you have Aldrich?"

Raxern sent a quick impression through the Force even as he kept Aldrich Rougar pinned to the wall of the turbolift.

* * *

"He's got him." Tamora said with a sigh of satisfaction as she felt the familiar brush of the dark side from Raxern. She brought the cloaked shuttle to rest on the roof of the skyscraper and checked the scanners. So far, so good. Local police forces hadn't spotted so much as a change in thermals.

They'd spent weeks planning this mission, and she was honestly surprised at the fact that it was going so smoothly. It almost didn't seem real to her after having heard all the ways missions had gone afoul for her father during his work for the Imperial Remnant's navy. _Best not to jinx anything_, she thought quickly.

"Great. We're moving in now." Said Dravik from somewhere behind her in the cargo hold. Tamora flipped a switch and lowered the ramp, then closing it as the amateur bounty hunter and his brother exited the ship. She watched all the sensors with intensity, alert for any changes in their surroundings.

_So far, so good_. Tamora thought to herself once again. She cursed herself as she suddenly realized she had had her fingers crossed subconsciously.

Raxern stood patiently in the turbolift as it ascended and consistently ignored the rants, threats, and taunts coming from Aldrich. The blond haired man was becoming increasingly crazed as he realized his hopeless situation. That he was firmly, irrevocably, abducted. Raxern amused himself with the notion of ripping out each one of the man's teeth with the Force. Of course he couldn't do that. They needed the man to talk, to give them the information they needed. If not..._They could go to more extreme measures_, he mused. Unfortunately, Aldrich's mouth had to stay functioning normally until then.

Raxern was extremely glad when the lift doors opened, the frosty wind hitting his face. The Force-user levitated his captive out of the elevator and tossed him unceremoniously onto the ground in front of the waiting bounty hunters. They quickly bound and gagged the man and then dragged him into the shuttle with Raxern close behind, the Dark jedi's Force senses extended to their limits for any pursuers.

He was pleased that it seemed like no one was any the wiser. Raxern was always pleased with success.

"Mission accomplished." Tamora said into the comm system's microphone. She got an automated "Return to base" transmission in return as she lifted off the planet. She turned to the co-pilot seat to give Raxern a quick grin. "Nice suit." Tamora said, knowing it would annoy the man. Raxern's answering scowl was all Tamora saw before the stars streaked as she made the jump to hyperspace.

Two days later the little band were gathered together in the safe house. Aldrich Rougar was seated and handcuffed at the dining table, watching them all with loathing as they ate in front of him.

"Steak?" Petra offered the ruffled leader- No, the slave trading scumbag, she corrected herself, leader was too nice of a word. Aldrich gave her an extra hard glare. "No?" She continued with poisonous sweetness as she impaled the meat on her plate. "Suit yourself, I'm having steak."

Tamora Skye suppressed a smile at the exchange. She had to admit she was enjoying this civilized form of torture. She knew she had to enjoy it while it lasted. She had no doubts about what would happen to the man over the course of the next few days. She struggled with this fact. Oh she knew he certainly deserved it, having heard and seen evidence of what this man had done to thousands of people over the past few years. But it still made her nearly sick to think about it. She put that down to the fact that she had learned over the past few weeks; That she was by far the most civilized -or naive, as Dravik put it- of the lot.

"When will our dear friend be arriving?" Tamora said cautiously to Raxern beside her, who was again donning his familiar black, heavy cloak.

"I suspect soon." Was his reply. That was as near to flippant as the man could get. Tamora prided herself on being able to read people, even strangers, to a degree. She couldn't read minds, as Raxern seemed able to, but she could still judge people almost like books.

"Lovely." Tamora said dryly to no one in particular, brushing her dark hair out of her face and biting into her fruit. She avoided looking at Aldrich the rest of the dinner until Jaxxon, as the familiar dark armored mandalorian preferred to be called, arrived. The armored man waltzed in, looked at the table, then took a seat up in the corner of the room.

All eyes fell on him as he removed his helmet. "So," He began slowly, with an almost but not quite smug grin on his face "You managed to pull it off after all. I'm impressed that years of my life weren't wasted on putting together this team."

Dravik and Renn stared hard at the man and his casual attitude. Raxern seemed indifferent, while Petra's gaze was friendly. Tamora didn't know what she felt about the man except that she had a basic respect for him, and an admiration for his goals.

"It takes little to impress you." Raxern spoke out from under his hood. Although he kept his voice void of anything, Tamora knew from their first encounter that Raxern hated Jaxxon. She had felt it radiate off of him then, and she felt it again now, at their second meeting.

She just wished she could figure out why.

"So it would seem." Jaxxon told the dark Jedi, mockingly matching his tone.

Raxern didn't rise to the bait, but Tamora felt a surge of hate from him. "Can we get down to business? Get what we need from this guy." She intervened quickly, earning her an acknowledging nod from the Mandalorian.

Jaxxon got up and approached Aldrich, gripping the slave master's chair from behind. Tamora flinched at grating sound as it was pulled backward. Petra watched almost eagerly and not for the first time, Tamora wondered about the two.

"We're going to have a nice chat together, you and I." Jaxxon said cheerfully as he dragged Aldrich into the other room, shutting the door behind him. Tamora returned to her food cautiously, then cringed as she felt the floors vibrate. She held no illusions about exactly why that room was sound proof, and so she had no delusions about what was currently going on inside it. She almost laughed at the sick strangeness of the situation.

"What do you think will happen?" Tamora directed at Raxern as an attempt to fill the horrible silence. However, it was Dravik who supplied an answer. "If he tells us what we need to know, he'll die. If he doesn't...He dies."

"Not what I meant." Tamora replied icily. "I meant, after that. What's our next mission? Does anyone know where or what we'll be doing for our second outing?" She stared around the table, her gaze lingering on the Force-user.

"Jaxxon will tell us." Raxern said finally, his voice tinged with distaste. Nobody else reacted to it, so Tamora concluded that she was the only one who had heard it. Or maybe she was just the only one who cared.

The door clicked open, and Jaxxon stuck his head out. "Raxern, would you please step inside for a moment. Mr. Aldrich needs a little..._Forceful_ persuasion." Despite his cheery tone, no one missed the emphasis on "Forceful".

Raxern seethed in silence for a heartbeat, then stood up from the table and entered the room. "Very well." The door slammed shut behind him with a quick tug of the Force, and he didn't miss the quick flare of...Concern, from Tamora Skye.

He seated himself across from Aldrich and removed his hood, ignoring the man's screech of rage as he recognized his kidnapper. "You- You- You murdered my men!"

"I did." Raxern replied indifferently. This seemed to increase the man's anger. He spat at Raxern. The Dark Jedi exerted a minuscule and concentrated Force push and flung it back at the captive's own face. "I'll be glad to kill you as well."

"Not quite yet!" Jaxxon exclaimed happily as if nothing would please him more than extending the life of his prisoner.

Raxern leaned back in his chair "As you wish."

"You'll get nothing out of me! Nothing!" Aldrich said rebelliously, his head held high, a hateful gleam in his eyes.

"Oh come now," Jaxxon said in mild disapproval "We're not so bad once you get to know us. Besides, we don't need you to tell us that you, the head of one of the most prominent organizations opposed to slavery is in fact also the head of one of the galaxy's leading slaver operations. It's a nice bit of irony, really."

Aldrich gave a high laugh. "Then why exactly have you captured me? You seem to know everything already."

"Not everything." Raxern said lowly. At a nod from Jaxxon, he placed his hands on the prisoner's head, forcing him to hold his gaze.

"This should be interesting." Jaxxon remarked in good humor. "It should only hurt for a few seconds. But it's the best way. After all, interrogation droids are so messy."

The color and anger drained from Aldrich's face. "What do you intend to do?" He sputtered, trying in vain to tear his head out of Raxern's grip.

Jaxxon gave the man a kind smile. "We want to do the same thing you do right now. We just want to see what you have in mind."

Raxern concentrated on the Force signature of Aldrich Rougar, feeling his emotions, sensing his thoughts before diving into it all.  
He sifted through the mass of images, sensations, thoughts and feelings and memories to find what he wanted. He pushed gently through the Force, looking for things related to- _Ah_. He came across the trademarked symbol of Corullo Shipyards. Exactly what I need, he thought triumphantly. He pushed more, ignoring the tiny push of resistance from Aldrich's mind, digging deeper now that he knew what to look for. He came across stray bits of conversations and images and finally, a memory.

"Corullo Shipyards is not prepared to-" A husky woman's voice said loudly. Raxern's vision formed into the view of a briefing room of a star-base.

"There's no way we could possibly commit to such a thing!" Another voice, this time a male's, shouted.

Raxern surged his presence forward and immersed himself fully into that particular memory.

He found himself sitting in the briefing room at the end of the table. He glanced at the nearest bulkhead, seeing the face of Aldrich Rougar reflected back at him.

"Are you prepared to back such a bold plan? I for one, have no intention of doing this for any amount of credits!" A dark haired woman said heatedly to the other man at the meeting. His gaze flickered as he glanced at Raxern/Aldrich. Clearly he was conflicted over keeping his job, or losing his job and possibly gaining a fortune.

"We're prepared to, and have the means to, supply you with any amount of Credits you desire to reimburse you for your troubles." Raxern/Aldrich replied smoothly "Your starships will be invaluable to the transportation and liberation of slaves across the galaxy. One would think, if members of the New Republic were so concerned with freedom of all beings, you would be quite happy to back us."

"Of course." The woman said hastily. "I only meant that we need more details so that we will be certain our contribution will have the desired effect."

"Of course." Raxern/Aldrich imitated coolly. "We will-" To Raxern, everything flickered oddly, as it were a badly damaged holo-recording, and he felt himself slip away from the memory. The scene dissolved and he was back sitting in the interrogation room across from present day Aldrich. The man was slumped in his chair. His chest wasn't move.

Raxern's gaze turned to Jaxxon. "What happened?"

"Most probably he seems to have injected himself with some sort of advanced memetic blocking technology." The Mando said slowly. "Whatever you were trying to access, he made sure no one would ever find out."

Together they left the room, and the deceased Aldrich Rougar with it.

"Our next mission is that of infiltration." Petra spoke to the group calmly a few hours later as they sat attentively, albeit spread out, in the living room.

"What's the target this time?" Tamora asked glumly from the couch. Everyone had noticed her decreased mood since Jaxxon and Raxern had emerged from the room, saying that Aldrich was dead. "What did the phantom menace over there find out?" She said with a forced smile as she referenced Raxern. She'd tried to get him to reveal something to her, but he was as tight lipped as a droid on a restraining bolt, something that only caused her to be even more negative.

Petra gave the other woman a raised eyebrow in response "Corullo Shipyards."

Tamora instantly brightened at the mention of one of the New Republic's largest supplier of ships. Their orders ranged from standard military craft, one man fighters to cruisers and capital ships, to custom made civilian crafts. "Will this mean we'll be stealing a ship or two?" She questioned, voice hopeful. "Or four? I still am waiting for compensation for my ditched Tie fighter..."

"You never know." Petra answered, smiling as she did so. "It might require a little dogfighting. If you survive, the ship of choice is yours."

"Just say yes, if it will keep the woman happy." Dravik said wearily from his corner, speaking up for the first time. Everyone looked at him. "Always keep a woman happy. It makes them easier to deal with." He either didn't notice, or didn't care, about the scathing look that Tamora sent his way.

"The sooner we start planning, the sooner we can do this." Dravik's brother said placatingly.

"Let's get started then." Tamora said cheerily.


End file.
